


Unknown Threat

by Ravxnclaw



Series: Kyrah in Skyrim [2]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Angsty Vilkas, Bro!Farkas, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Indecision, Multiple Relationships, Old Vs. New, Sneaky Brynjolf, intense angst, old flame
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-05
Updated: 2015-11-11
Packaged: 2018-04-30 05:43:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 17,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5152475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ravxnclaw/pseuds/Ravxnclaw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kyrah thought that she was happily settled down with Vilkas, when an unknown stranger emerges from his past to influence their future. </p><p> </p><p>I do not own Skyrim, Vilkas, Farkas, Brynjolf, the Companions, the Thieves Guild, or anything other than my original female character, all credit goes to Bethesda</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Kyrah POV

The first day that she walked into my life, I never thought that she was going to be the person to ruin my life. She seemed like someone who just needed a friend, possibly someone I could take under my wing, and I never suspected a thing about her.   
She was so harmless, so broken looking, I couldn’t just leave her there. She sat by a busted up caravan that had clearly been looted many times since it had crashed, and I could see the way that she was clutching her ribs. I had felt that pain before and sympathized, knowing how hard it was to breathe, let alone call for help when your ribs were busted.   
She had called out to me, her voice high and shaky, and I knew that the Guild was going to have to wait. Despite the motto of ‘every thief for herself’, I knew that the guilt would eat me alive if I just walked past her on the side of the road. Her face was pinched in pain and I had seen it on Vilkas’ face when he came home from a contract with a new broken bone or break in his skin, it was pure pain.   
“What happened?” I knew that my voice sounded harsher than I meant it to, but she didn’t really seem to care.   
“I was taking this caravan back to Whiterun, but a bunch of bandits got onto it. I couldn’t fight all of them off and they made off with everything I had.” Her words were chopped and she took gasping breaths after every sentence, her lungs clearly working hard under an injured rib.   
“I’m off on my way to Riften now, but I could help you to the inn, it would be better than spending the night out here.” I knew that I could be falling into some sort of trap and kept a good distance from her, my right hand never far from the hilt of my weapon.   
“I don’t have any money, it was all in a purse in the back and they took it.” She looked as if she hadn’t bathed in almost a week and her eyes were desperately pleading for me to either stay with her or take her with me. I knew that I wasn’t going to be able to walk away from this, but had to decide if I wanted to carry her the rest of the way to Riften with me and pay for her room, or take her home.  
“I live not far from here.” I nodded, keeping my tone curt just in case there was anyone else listening. “If you don’t think you can make it to Riften, my-” I still hadn’t quite figured out what to call him yet. He was much more than a friend, but was not yet a husband. “Significant other is there today, he should be able to help you.”  
“Thank you so much.” She started to get up, wincing back in pain. I moved away from her, making larger and larger circles throughout the trees to ensure that there was no one lurking in the shadows, waiting to jump out at me and take advantage of my charity. I was suspicious that she was some sort of bait, but it seemed to be harmless.   
“Can you walk?” I kneeled down in front of her, eyeing all of the shadows around us, making sure none of them moved in any way that could be a creature. She nodded and started to stand, her hand always pressing on the side of her ribs.   
I held my arm out to her, allowing her to pull herself into something resembling a standing position. Her eyes closed tight and she let out a gasp, but I knew that she was going to need my help walking. Her arm clasped tightly around my shoulders and I began carrying her weight back down the road, glad that she was only a few minutes’ walk from the house.   
“So,” the silence was deafening and I was willing to say anything to break it, as well as wanting to know more about the woman who was to enter my home, “what’s your name?”   
“Vyka.” Her breathing was becoming more labored and she stumbled, her arm tightening around my shoulders. “You?”  
“My name’s Kyrah.” I kept my eyes trained forward on the road, not wanting to make her feel more uncomfortable about being in such pain. “The man waiting for me at home is named Vilkas, and his brother Farkas should be back later tonight.”   
She nodded, seeming uninterested by the information, but I didn’t want to just dump her in the company of complete strangers. I had witnessed Vilkas’ ability to heal a broken bone firsthand, both on Farkas and myself, and knew that he would be able to help her.   
“Thank you. I’ve seen a few other people, but they just pretend they don’t see me. I think I made them sad.” She laughed bitterly and ended with a cough, her voice sounding scratchy from dehydration. I was still wary about leaving her at my house, but knew that I needed to get back to the Guild. I had already skipped a few days of work, wanting to stay with Vilkas in our relatively new home, but I had neglected it for long enough.   
I opened the door for her, instantly glancing around to see where Vilkas is. I had seen Farkas getting ready to leave a few moments after I left, and knew that Vilkas was probably alone in the house. Sitting her down in a chair I closed the door, hurrying through the house to find Vilkas. I couldn’t seem to hear him, quickly becoming worried that he changed his mind and left for Jorrvaskr.   
“Vilkas?” I paused, waiting to hear his reply. “Honey?”  
“Kyrah?” He poked his head out of the bedroom, his wet hair pushed away from his face. He looked like he was confused that I was there, but I didn’t want to waste any time. I pushed the door open, seeing his naked form emerge from behind the door. He smirked and began to wrap his arms around me, but I placed a hand on his chest to keep him at bay.   
“What’s going on? Why are you here?” He wrapped a towel around his waist, and I could see the full bathtub in the corner of the room. I could smell the soap and was tempted to just fall into him, almost forgetting to worry about the injured girl downstairs.   
“There’s a girl, I brought her home. I need to get back to Riften, but she really needs some help.” He raised an eyebrow of me, using the towel to wipe away some of the leftover water. I could feel my eyes drawn to his body and had to work to keep focused on something other than him.   
“What’s wrong with her?” He sat down on the bed, reaching for his pants across the bed. He rested his hand on my thigh, holding me closer to him.   
“I don’t know what exactly, but she’s holding her side like it’s something wrong with her ribs.” I leaned closer to him, feeling the warmth from his bath radiating from his body. His hand wrapped around my leg and he pressed a kiss to my hip, I let my hand run through his hair, feeling the cold water dripping from the ends as he looked up at me.   
“I’ll see what I can do, but if I don’t know exactly what’s wrong, there’s not a whole lot I can do.” I kissed his forehead, smiling. I knew that he was going to be eager to help, and I could only hope that he would be able to figure out what was wrong with her.   
“Does this mean you’re staying with me?” He smirked, his hands holding onto my hips, keeping me close to him. I so badly wanted to stay with him and take care of this girl, but knew that I couldn’t break my newly formed alliance with the Guild by staying home for so long.   
“I can’t, love. I’ll be back early tonight, though, if you need anything.” I stepped back, feeling the cold air hit my skin, wondering if I should feel safe leaving a stranger in my home. I trusted that Vilkas was able to defend himself, but the idea of leaving someone I had just met in the place I lived was making more than a little nervous.  
“I love you.” He stood up, pulling his pants onto his body and kissing me lightly on the lips once. He followed me as I walked down the stairs, his arms catching me just as I reached for the door. I saw that the chair I had left her in was empty, wondering where she could have gone. Upon hearing the bathroom door swing shut I sighed quietly, knowing that at least she wasn’t snooping through the house.   
He pressed me against the wall, his body tight against mine. I felt myself blush and he planted kisses along my face, moving down my throat. He chuckled, his hips pressing into mine, and it felt so good that I almost didn’t want to leave. His hands were in my hair and his mouth was on my skin, occasionally whispering that he loved me.   
“Vilkas, I love you.” I pushed him away, missing his heat. “But I have to go to work, love. Please, do what you can, I couldn’t just walk past her and leave her on the side of the road.” I kissed his face once more, his fingers threatening to twine into my hair, but I pulled away from him. He smiled, his hand lingering on my hip as I pulled open the door.  
“I love you, Kyrah.”   
I closed the door behind me, letting his words meet my ears before I started my journey once more. I took to the shadows, walking along the side of the path, my mind never leaving my home. I wondered how long she was in the bathroom and what Vilkas would try to do to help her.   
I knew that he would try his best to help her, but what I didn’t know, and wouldn’t find out until I got home later, was that she wasn’t even injured. I thought I had been being careful, but in reality, I had played right into her hands. I was putting the one that I loved the most in danger and didn’t even know it. I was leaving him with someone who was definitely dangerous, but was far from a stranger.


	2. Vilkas POV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vilkas is left alone with the injured women and gets a blast from the past

I looked around, wondering who she had brought home with her, hoping that I would be able to help whoever was injured. I wish that Kyrah had stayed with me instead of just leaving me at home with a stranger, but I knew that they couldn’t be too much of a threat if she was injured. I strapped a small sword to my waist, buckling my armor onto myself just in case it was some sort of trap.   
“Hello?” I called out into the house, keeping my back to the wall so that nothing could sneak up on me. I tapped my fingers on the handle of my sword, not liking how quiet the house had become. I didn’t hear any footsteps, wondering where this supposedly grievously injured woman had gone.   
“Hello, Vilkas.”  
I heard her voice and whirled around, wondering where it could have come from. Had Kyrah told her my name? Where was her voice coming from? I withdrew the weapon, knowing that this was no injured wanderer. I didn’t know who this woman was, but there was a familiar lilt to her voice that I couldn’t quite place where I remembered it from. It was as if the memory was coming through a fog, and I couldn’t figure where I’d heard the voice before.  
“Who are you?” I demanded to know who had invaded my house, but I couldn’t figure out where they were hiding from me. I stepped forward, searching each of the shadowy corners that I knew Kyrah was able to hide in, but it wasn’t her in the house. This was a stranger, someone who could potentially hurt my family.  
“Oh, lovely boy, you don’t remember me?” Her voice sounded like a taunt and my anger only grew at that. This woman who had snuck into my house was teasing me, leading me on as if she knew something I didn’t.  
“What?” I turned around, wondering how she was hiding from me.   
I heard feet drop softly to the floor and twisted around, knowing that she was trying to stay behind me. I had to keep her in front of me, not willing to let this unknown assailant sneak up on me. I could see the outline of someone standing just off the doorway, keeping my weapon light in my hand.   
“Oh Vilkas, I thought we promised to never forget one another.”   
She emerged from the shadows and I felt like I had seen a ghost. She stood there, her face having aged but I could tell that it was her. She had a smirk on her face that I had seen many times before, but it had been years since I had been around her. But there she stood right in the middle of my house, her hip thrown to the side, her familiarly Nordic features so similar to the last time I saw her.   
“Vyka.”  
Her name felt so odd coming from my lips, feeling odd after so many years of never saying it. She had disappeared, running off into battle with nothing more than a kiss on my lips, and she had never come back. I had spent weeks moping around Jorrvaskr, whimpering about her absence and vowing to never love again, and I didn’t for almost four years.   
“My my Vilkas, how long did you wait until you found a new little…” she trailed off, her lips quirking into a sarcastic smile. “Plaything?”  
“She isn’t a plaything.”   
I felt my face redden in anger, hating that she knew about Kyrah, hating that she had the nerve to show her face in my house. I hated that she was standing in the living room where I had seen Kyrah clean her weapons and helped stitch Farkas up after a particularly risky mission. I hated that she was here, swishing her hips around and running her fingers along the spines of my books as if this was her home instead of mine. I hated that she had run out on me, letting me think that she had died, letting me grieve her, instead of owning up to her disappearance.   
“oh, isn’t she? I’ve seen you, Vilkas. I know how you operate. I know that you aren’t one for marriage, so why are you fooling the poor girl?” She tossed her light hair over her shoulder, smirking at me over her shoulder. I hated that I had once been encaptured by what I thought was confidence, but instead was arrogance.   
“I’m not. Get out of my house.”  
I pointed my weapon at the door, glad that Kyrah had helped me with my one handed weapons after I had helped her with two handed. A greatsword would never swing to full extent in this house, and I was so glad that I didn’t have to try to fit it into my living room.  
“This was supposed to be our house.” Her voice was soft, almost as if she felt bad about leaving, but I knew that she didn’t care. If she had cared she wouldn’t have let me believe that she was dead instead of just telling me that she didn’t love me.   
“You let me think you died.” I kept my voice short, wishing that she had stayed dead instead of coming back to haunt me like some sort of ghost.   
“I had to, my love.” She sauntered toward me, making me wish that Kyrah had stayed home with me. She would know what to do. “I couldn’t just tell you that I had to go home to Atmora. I couldn’t just walk up and tell you that I had to go help my family fight in their own Civil War and abandon Skyrim.”  
Her fingers walked along my chest until she grabbed my face, anger radiating everywhere through my body from where she touched me. I hated that she thought that she could touch me. I hated it. I hated her touch and I hated that smile on her face. I knew that I hated everything about her.   
“Get away from me.”  
I touched the tip of my sword to her stomach and began to push, needing to get her away from me before I made a bad choice. I couldn’t let her touch me or I would have exploded with anger. I couldn’t let her get so close to me or my sword was going to go right through her stomach.   
“Oh Vilkas, you used to love me touching you.” She smiled as I pushed my hand away from my face, feeling the tips of her fingernails scratch my cheek through my stubble. I didn’t care whether or not it drew blood, not caring about anything other than getting her out of my life once again.   
“Stay away from me.” I pushed the sword toward her once more, knowing that if she angered me much more she was going to end up hurt. She smiled, flicking her light blonde hair away from her face, her dark eyes watching me curiously. Her light hair and skin no longer captured my attention the way that it used to, my mind always returning to Kyrah’s dark hair and angled eyes.   
“I thought you loved me, Vilkas. You promised that you always would.”  
She jumped back just as I thrust my weapon forward, and I knew that I had let the anger get the best of me. She had surely seen it on my face and I could feel the beast growling in the back of my mind. It had been a long time since I had fought someone who knew me so well, but I was going to have to keep the anger off my face.   
“I don’t love you, Vkya.” She laughed lightly at this as if she didn’t believe me. “I never did.”   
“Of course you did, Vilkas.” She snickered, her nose wrinkling in a way that made me feel sick to my stomach. “You loved me and I loved you. I still do.” Her hand pressed against my chest, each finger pressing into me, and it made me feel sick.  
“You don’t love me.” I pushed her hand away, not wanting her to be that close to me. The only person that I wanted close to me was Kyrah, and she was long gone down the road to RIften. I wished that she had stayed home with me, or maybe if she had been less caring she wouldn’t have brought this woman into our home.   
I couldn’t blame her, her caring nature was part of the reason that I loved her. Besides, Vyka would have found her way into the house whether or not Kyrah fell for it, but I couldn’t figure out what she wanted from me. She hadn’t made any demands yet, and I couldn’t tell what she could have wanted out of this situation.   
“What do you want from me, Vyka? Why are you here, in my home?” She started to walk away from me back toward the book shelf, her eyes twinkling in a way that I knew wasn’t friendly.   
“I told you, this was supposed to be our home together.” She let her finger run along the spine of Fall From Glory, and I couldn’t help but wonder if she did that on purpose. It was, after all, a book about the Thieves Guild, meaning that she knew about Kyrah.   
“So?” I raised a brow, making sure to keep my weapon pointed in her direction.  
“I want her gone from our home, got it?” She turned to look at me, and she let Fall From Glory tumble to the floor. I didn’t even know how to react to that. This was my home with Kyrah and Farkas, a place that was supposed to be safe from the worries of our different Guilds. It was supposed to be a sanctuary from all of the problems of the world, instead it had somehow become something that Vyka felt entitled to.   
“You remember how good I used to make you feel, Vilkas?” She smiled, sashaying toward me again, her hips swaying back to forth as she came much too close for me to be comfortable. She looked up at me through her lashes in a way that used to drive me mad, but it only fueled my already present anger.   
“I asked you to leave, Vyka.” I lowered my voice in an attempt to keep control of myself, but I could feel my skin threatening to stretch and become that of the beast. I could hear the growling in my chest, but fought to keep it down. I couldn’t afford to succumb to the monster that dwelled in my head without anyone else to back me up, as Kyrah and Farkas had both left for the remainder of the day.  
“Fine, wolf boy. I’ll leave.” She walked away from me, her finger drawing a harsh line along my jaw. “But trust me, I’ll be back for you, and I’m not going to let you go this time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short epilogue to Whelp With Potential, because I just loved these two so much I wasn't ready to give them up


	3. Kyrah POV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kyrah returns home once she finds out who the mysterious woman is, but she's met with nothing good and is left questioning her past.
> 
>  
> 
> I do not own Brynjolf, Vilkas, the Thieves Guild, Skyrim, Riften, or anything other than my original female character, all credit goes to Bethesda

The Cistern had always been so safe, more home to me than anywhere else in Tamriel, but even there I couldn’t keep my mind from straying to the injured woman, Vyka. I wondered how my own thieves had gone down that road without helping her, as I knew that many of them had been on and returned from jobs and must have walked right by her. They were good people, despite how they were conceived by the rest of the country.   
“Lass, c’mere for a minute.”   
I heard his voice before I even saw him, lurking in the shadows near the Guild Master’s desk. His form was barely visible in the dark corners. I walked toward him, wondering what could be important enough for him to talk to me again. He had been actively ignoring me for weeks after he first welcomed me back, somehow always managing to find more important things to take care of.   
“What is it?” I leaned against the desk, looking up at him, trying to read his expression.   
“Someone stopped Cynric out on the street, asking all sorts of questions about you, same with Sapphire.” I raised an eyebrow, unsure who would be asking questions about me, especially from the thieves that aren’t too close to me. It would have made sense if they stopped Karliah of Brynjolf, but Sapphire has always made it clear that her and I were not friends.   
“What kinds of questions?” I moved closer to him, not wanting anyone else to hear and worry, but my anxiety was quickly raising. My hands were shaking and I placed them on my side, my mind racing.   
“Where you live, who you live with, and she asked plenty of questions about that guy Vilkas that they didn’t know the answer to.”   
“She?” My voice shook and my mind went straight to the woman that I had picked up this morning. I knew that it was a trap. I had fallen right into it. My poor Vilkas, at home with her, without Farkas there to back him up. I wondered what she could have wanted from me, why she would ask about Vilkas.   
“Yeah, thin girl, dark armor, think she was a Nord, had light hair. Can’t recall her name, though.”   
“Vyka.” I grabbed the front of Brynjolf’s armor. “Was it Vyka?”  
“Yes.” He looked alarmed, his hands holding mine and pulling them away from his armor. I grabbed onto his skin, fear bursting under my skin. I left him alone with someone who wasn’t only uninjured, she also knew about Vilkas and I.  
“I need to get home. Brynjolf, please come with me.” I tugged on his hands, knowing that although he never wanted to bloody his sword, I needed him by my side. I knew that I might have looked crazy, my eyes wide, but my heart was racing and I needed to get home. I didn’t know what i was walking into, and knew that Brynjolf was strong enough to help.  
“Okay, lass, I’ll help.” He let go of my hands and stalked toward the door. I followed quickly after him, trying to hide my urgency to keep from alerting anyone else to the situation. I didn’t know what would be awaiting me when I made it home, but I knew that I couldn’t wait until the end of the day to go home.   
“So, who is this woman, Vyka?” He walked quickly through Riften, pushing the gate open in front of him. I kept up quickly on his heels, my hand brushing against his armor to ensure that I’m close to him.   
“I don’t know, and I don’t like that I don’t know.” I saw my house in the distance and sprinted toward it, despite Brynjolf’s hand trying to hold me back. Panic flooded through me and I couldn’t see or hear anything, my brain racing through a variety of situations.   
Before I could reach the door, she stepped out, a smile growing across her face. I drew Chillrend from its sheath, feeling the magic emanate from the blade, hating the smirk on her face. She was walking upright, tossing her hair over her shoulder, no longer holding her hand to her side. I should have known that she wasn’t injured, but what could she have wanted from me?  
“Oh, Kyrah.” She sucked in a breath of air, shutting the door behind her. “So sorry about all this, but I don’t think there’s any reason for you to go back in there.” She wiped her hand across her mouth and I couldn’t help but wonder what had dirtied it.   
“Who are you?” I climbed up the porch to my own home, suddenly feeling more of a stranger than its main inhabitant.   
“DIdn’t Vilkas ever tell you about his one true love? The one that went off on a contract and never came back?” She smirked again, and my stomach sank. “That’s me, little girl, and I’ve come back to take what’s mine.”  
“Let me by, I need to talk to Vilkas.” I tried to push past her, but she withdrew two short daggers from her side.   
“Like I said, there’s no reason to go in there. Vilkas has already agreed to leave you, why would you make it awkward and face him?” I felt Brynjolf’s fingers grip my elbow and took a step down. “Don’t do that to him, Kyrah. If you really loved him you’d just let him be happy.”  
Taking another step down I felt Brynjolf’s body at my back, feeling so solid in a world that had been turned upside down so quickly. I did love VIlkas, and I wanted to be happy, and what if my presence was making him unhappy? He had told me about her, and the way he had described her was so detailed, as if he remembered every small thing about her. Maybe she was right, and I needed to let him be happy.   
“I’ll leave your stuff out on the porch, you can pick it up tomorrow.” She waved at me, indicating that she wanted me to leave, and I let Brynjolf’s hand pull me off the porch and away from my house.   
I walked back down the road, my sword limp in my hand, but I didn’t have the strength left to put it away. Brynjolf’s arms kept me moving down the road, my mind floating somewhere far away, and I didn’t feel like I was in control of my actions anymore.   
Vilkas had left me, and didn’t even want to tell me himself. I wish I had known that he was unhappy, but apparently I had been too absorbed in the Guild to even notice that he didn’t want to be happy with me anymore.   
“Come on, lass, you should stay at the Cistern.” His voice was soft, probably because he was worried that he was going to push me off the brink. He saw the blank expression on my face and the shuffling way my feet scuffed down the road, but I didn’t care. He was my friend, despite our mingled past, and I couldn’t think of anyone else that I wanted with me, as he was my best friend in the Guild.   
“I thought he really loved me,” I let myself lean against him, no longer able to walk on my own. His arm held me up, and I couldn’t stop thinking about anything other than those words. I had thought that he loved me. I really did. I thought that he was the first person to accept me no matter what, but apparently I had fooled myself into thinking that. He hadn’t loved me. He hadn’t loved me.  
“I know, lass, I thought he did too.” His voice drifted to me as if it was coming through a haze, barely making its way through the cloud of Vilkas. I had thought that he loved me. I had really believed that we loved each other, I thought that he was my future, but I had fooled myself.   
I let him pull me back to Riften, suddenly stopping. I wobbled in place but remained standing, wishing that he would just let me go. My whole history was plagued with this same situation. I had thought that Brynjolf had loved me for months, let him lead me on, but he didn’t love me. I had thought that Vilkas loved me, I had thought that he was the one, but I had just been fooled once again.   
Brynjolf leaned down, taking the sword from my hand and resheathing it. The weight of it on one side of me was almost enough to topple me over, but I stayed standing. I wasn’t going to let myself fall to the ground.   
“What’s wrong with me?” I looked up at him, struggling to stay afloat in the sea of thoughts that were clouding my mind. “Why didn’t you love me?”  
He looked up at me, his face blank, his mouth open with no words coming out of it, his eyes staring at me. He stepped back, my sword strapped to my side, but we didn’t continue into Riften. The guards were watching us, but I knew that there was nothing to worry about. They didn’t care about who loved who, all that they cared about was that their pockets stayed full.  
“There’s nothing wrong with you.” He whispered, his hands resting at his sides, the least sneaky stance that I had seen since before we all found out about Mercer. “I promise.” I watched him, my mind no longer regulating my mouth and I couldn’t control what I did and didn’t say.   
I tilted my head, my mind screaming at me to shut up, but I didn’t know how. I wasn’t in control of my mouth anymore, my mind and my body feeling completely separate from one another. I tried to continue walking past him and into Riften, but I couldn’t. My body was planted firmly to the ground outside the gate and I was left staring at his confused face.   
“Then why don’t you love me?”


	4. Brynjolf POV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brynjolf is left reeling after he watches Kyrah get her heart broken, but doesn't want to give the answers that she's asking for. 
> 
>  
> 
> I do not own Skyrim, Brynjolf, Vilkas, the Thieves Guild, or anything other than my original character, all credit goes to Bethesda

I didn’t know what to say to her. There she stood, looking so broken after finding that woman living in her house, her eyes boring into mine, just waiting for an answer. I didn’t know what I was going to say. I couldn’t tell her the many reasons that I hadn’t loved her before, and I couldn’t tell her why I had thought that I had loved her.  
“What?”  
“Come on Brynjolf, tell me.” She looked like she could have fallen on the ground at any moment, but I didn’t want to hold her up. I knew from experience that if I tried to help her, she was going to push me away. She didn’t want help right now, she wanted answers, and I didn’t have the ones that she wanted.   
“Kyrah-”  
“I am your Guild Master, answer me!” I saw the tears welling in her eyes and stepped closer to me, unsure whether she was going to crumble in my arms or rebuff me. Her voice was shaking and her hands were limp, leading me to believe that she was going to end up crumbling.   
“I thought that I loved you,” I touched her arm, feeling the lack of strength in her usually structured stance. Her arms were weak and she leaned into my hold, her eyes looking as if they were far off somewhere else, lost in thought. I knew that she wasn’t really present with me, and tugged on her arm to bring her back into Riften so that she could lie down.  
“Let’s get you to bed.” I pulled her along with me, hearing her feet shuffle over the worn stone road, her body not putting up much of a fight. I didn’t know when she was going to snap out of it, but it needed to be soon, because the Guild needed leadership that I had learned I wasn’t apt to provide.   
She stumbled along beside me, and I pulled her quickly through town, not wanting anyone to see the supposed intimidating and unbeatable Thieves Guild Master looking either drunk or lost in the streets of the city she was meant to control. I kept her tight to my body, trying to hide her blank looking face my pulling her to me. I didn’t want anyone to think that she was losing her touch, as most people saw her as nothing more than a fearsome shadow.   
“Brynjolf!” I heard a female voice ringing through the air and I cringed. I had heard my name said like that many times, and knew that something bad was coming next. Kyrah leaned against me, her wide eyes meeting mine and I could see the tears silently streaming down her face.   
A woman stood there, her foot tapping angrily, and I vaguely remembered her through the fog of ale and the wee hours in the early morning. Her face was pinched in anger and I tucked Kyrah closer to me, trying to keep this moment as short as possible.   
“Oh my god, is this your wife? Is that why you snuck out before I woke up? You jerk, I can’t believe you!” I heard Kyrah laughing bitterly and she pulled away from me, my surprise keeping me from holding her tight.   
“Right?! I thought I’d be his wife too, but I guess not! I guess I’m not going to be anyone’s wife!” Her voice was high and sarcastic and she looked as if she was going to fall over. Her laugh subsided into sobs and the woman whose name was lost to me shot me one last glare before storming away.  
Kyrah fell to her knees and covered her face in her hands, and I hated the sight. I wasn’t ready to think about what she said, I just knew that I needed to get her back to the Cistern, likely to the Guild Masters’ Chambers so that she could have some privacy.   
“Kyrah, come on.” I placed my hands under her arms and lifted her up, so easy to do since she was a small Dunmer woman. She kept sobbing, her body almost completely limp as I held her close. We made our way to the cemetery and I quickly tucked her into my arms, not wanting any of the thieves to see her this way either. Her face pressed into my armor and her sobs quieted some, but she was still sniffling. I hurried through the Cistern, her feet barely keeping up with the pace I was keeping her at. She sniffed once more, her voice weak and her watery eyes meeting mine.   
“I need a drink.” She gulped down some air and I pushed open the door, feeling her arm rest on my back.   
“I’ll get you one, just lay down lass.” I set her down on her bed and saw her swaying from side to side, not sure if she was going to be able to stay upright. Her mouth was slightly open and her eyes were looking around the room as if she didn’t know where she was. Her hands were sitting on her lap and she looked like she could fall asleep at any moment.   
Making my way out to the Flagon I grabbed a few bottles of Ale, glad that Vekel had stocked up on Black-Briar only a few days before. I felt a few pairs of eyes on me, but I didn’t feel up to conversation. My heart was drawing me to get back to her, paranoid that she had gone off on her own and hurt herself in her stupor.   
“Brynjolf,” Delvin’s voice was low as he said my name, pulling my attention away from Kyrah sitting in her room, waiting for me. “How bad is it?”   
I shook my head, hoping that she was going to be okay for a few moments. I didn’t know how long I felt comfortable leaving her on her own, but I sat down anyway, thankful for a few moments to consider what I should or shouldn’t say to her.   
“Not good. That woman who was asking about Kyrah, she’s moved into her house. She’s apparently someone from Vilkas’ past, and they made Kyrah move out.” I sat back in the chair, running a hand through my hair. “Now she’s basically sitting in her room, wondering why no one ever actually loves her.”  
“But didn’t you-”  
“Yes.” I cut him off, my voice harsh, standing up once more. “But she thinks that she’s awful and is going through some sort of crisis. I don’t know. She just said that she wants a drink, so I got her a drink.” I stood up, grabbing the bottles of ale and walking toward her room once more.   
I peeked into her room, not wanting to startle her, and saw her curled up in her bed. My bed stood empty next to hers, which was odd because it was usually the other way around. She never stayed in the Cistern, but that was when she had a home to go to at the end of the day.   
I could see her body shaking with each sob, the sound stifled from her face in her pillow. Her dark hair was tangled as it splayed out over the bed, her armor tight on her body, and I couldn’t help it. I just wanted to run my fingers through her hair, but I knew it was the wrong choice.   
“Here,” I set the bottles down on the small cupboard, seeing her flushed face emerge from the pillow. Her eyes were sharper than they had been before and she glared up at me, making me wonder if coming back into the room was the wrong choice. Maybe I should have left her alone.   
“Thanks.” Her voice was curt, and I sat down on my own bed, her dark eyes watching me the whole time. She sniffled and wiped the back of her hand under her nose, her shaking hands tucking back into the folds of her blanket.   
“Kyrah-”  
“I’m sorry, Bryn, about what I said.” She sat up, her eyes widening, a small strand of hair falling into her face. “I know that it probably made you uncomfortable, and I’m sorry, I wasn’t really thinking about what I was saying.”   
“It’s okay, I know. You’d been through a lot.” I took a deep drink, returning to familiar habit of drowning any unwelcome thoughts in ale.   
“I still would like to know though.” She twiddled her fingers together, face darkening in embarrassment and she stared down at her lap. “I’d like to know why you don’t love me.”  
I raised an eyebrow, wondering how truthful I needed to be to satisfy her. I didn’t want to tell her the complete truth, but I knew that I wouldn’t be able to lie to her either. She had always been able to tell when I was lying to her.   
“Why didn’t I love you?” I took another small drink, meeting her level gaze. “You didn’t trust me. You knew that I was a thief and I had a history, so you didn’t even give me a real chance.” I saw her coloring deepening, but knew that she didn’t want me to stop. “Plus, you left me. I don’t know why you left but you did, and you didn’t even tell me why.”   
She looked into my eyes and I didn’t know exactly what to say next, but I could see her eyes filling with tears once more and felt an innate need to make her feel better. I felt my heart wrench and wanted so badly to reach out and touch her, but wasn’t sure if she would slap me away.   
“I couldn’t tell you, Bryn.” Her voice was weak with the threat of tears once more and I worried that I had pushed her too far. “I couldn’t tell you about how I was this weird Nord legend, the Dragonborn, and I couldn’t tell you that if I was, I knew that the Thieves Guild wasn’t going to equip me very well. I couldn’t tell you that even though for months I had thought that I had loved you, that I had convinced myself that someday I’d get you to myself, I chose myself over you and the Guild and everyone I care about. I couldn’t tell you that.”  
She dissolved into sobs once more, her hands clasped tightly against her face, and I didn’t know how to react. She was the Dragonborn, the prophet that I had learned about so many years ago? That’s why she left? I had spent weeks contemplating how much of it was my own fault, if I had driven her away, if her leaving was because I slept with her and hadn’t committed to her. I had spent so long trying to figure out why she left, I hadn’t once considered that it was simply to hone her skills since she was the Dragonborn.   
“Stay here with us, Kyrah. It’ll be fitting since you’re out Guild Master, and you do have your own bed here.” I reached over, lightly placing my hand on her leg, feeling the worn armor under my fingers.   
“Maybe I should go home and figure it out.” She bit her lip in thought.   
“Please,” I knew that I shouldn’t be doing this for my own reasons, but it felt so good knowing that she was no longer committed to Vilkas, despite my anger at him for hurting her. “Stay here.”


	5. Vilkas POV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vilkas is left clueless to the events of the day, awaiting Kyrah and Farkas' return when he's hit with yet another surprise visitor, just as hostile and misunderstood as the last.

My home felt so empty and I was left impatiently waiting for Kyrah or Farkas to come home, hoping for any type of company. I didn’t trust myself to make it all the way to Whiterun, but was desperate for one of them to come home.   
Vyka had left as she had told me she would, but I was paranoid that she was going to come back without warning. I hated that she had found her way into my house, especially using Kyrah, and I hated that she could enter whenever she wanted. I hated that she had even talked to Kyrah. I wished that she would have come home sooner than usual, but knew that she was good at her job. I knew that she was committed and smiled to myself. I was so proud of how great she was as a leader, and knew that if she was the Dragonborn, she was going to live up to the reputation.   
Farkas wasn’t going to be home for hours, but I wished that he would come home to keep me from being alone. I wanted someone there with me, someone who would talk things through with me, someone to make sense of it all with. I was left alone, though, and wished that my anxiety would calm down, as I could hear the beast growling within me.   
The sun set throughout the day and I was anxious for someone to return home. I had taken to pacing throughout the house, trying a few times to sit down with one of my books, but I hadn’t been able to focus, all of the words blurring on the page until I couldn’t read at all. As the hours passed along, I paced up and down the stairs, ears pricking up at the smallest hint of a sound. Finally, once the darkness had fully descended on the land, the door slammed open and I almost tripped making my way down the stairs.   
I imagined that it was Farkas coming through the door, since it had been opened with such force. The door was sitting wide open, revealing the darkness outside of the house, but no one was to be seen. I worried that Vyka had entered the house once again, my heartbeat racing and I withdrew my sword once again.   
“Vilkas.”   
It was a male voice that growled my name, once that I wasn’t familiar with, and I sprung into action. I quickly made my way down the stairs and to the ground floor of the home, eyes sweeping over the room, looking for any hint of the stranger who had entered my house. I couldn’t see anyone, causing me to wonder who it was. They knew me, making me hope that it wasn’t a threat.   
“Who are you?”   
Hands slammed into my chest and threw me against the wall, the sword clattering out of my hand and onto the floor. I couldn’t see who was touching me and holding me against the wall, but their fists were balled up in the front of my armor. My heart raced and I wondered what they were going to try, but then his face emerged from the shadows.   
There Brynjolf stood, looking the exact same as he had almost two years ago when I had first seen him in Jorrvaskr. His face hadn’t changed one bit, the only difference was that his smug smirk had disappeared and been replaced by an expression of pure hatred. I hadn’t heard Kyrah talk about him often and had almost forgotten about him in our domestic bliss.   
“Brynjolf, what the hell? What are you doing here?” I pushed against his chest, not wanting him to touch me anymore. That day had already been hard enough, and I just wanted to go to sleep with Kyrah next to me and hopefully wake up with all of these surprise visits in the past.   
“You broke her heart, you asshole, and she might be willing to forgive you but I’m not.” He fingers tightened in my shirt, his face close to mine. “You were supposed to love her and take care of her in the ways I couldn’t.” His eyes were watching mine, his anger evident in the air around us.   
“What?” I didn’t know what he thought happened, but he obviously had gotten the wrong information. “I didn’t break her heart, I was just waiting for her right now.”   
“Oh, did you and your girlfriend not talk about that? She won’t be back for her stuff until tomorrow you milkdrinker.”   
She was coming back tomorrow, but only for her stuff? What had happened? If she was coming for her things, as well as sending Brynjolf to intimidate me, she must have decided to leave me.   
“She’s coming for her stuff?” I knew that my voice was weak, and this was the last person that I wanted to see me in my most vulnerable state, but I didn’t care. She had left me and I didn’t even know why. She hadn’t even done it herself, my heart beginning to ache at the thought of her and Brynjolf planning for her to leave me.   
He laughed sarcastically, tossing me into the wall and letting go of my shirt. I was stunned, left leaning against the wall of the very house we had purchased together to build our life in, my mind left questioning where I went wrong.   
“Yeah, but don’t worry, I’ll be there with her to make sure you don’t make her cry again.” He pointed his dagger at me, his face and voice low and serious, reminding me of the quiet tone he had used when I found them in Jorrvaskr. It only served to heighten my anger when I realized that he was probably used to talking to her like that. It was probably his fault that she was leaving me without even telling me.  
“When did I make her cry?” He had begun to walk toward the door, his head swiftly turning and his eyes meeting mine once again.   
“What are you, stupid?” He tucked his dagger into the sheath strapped to his thigh, one red eyebrow raising at me.   
He turned on his heel and left, quickly blending in with the rest of the darkness outside of the door. As soon as he exited the light from my candles and fireplace I couldn’t see him anymore, making me wonder how long he had been a thief, and how many times he had snuck into my house before.   
Jealousy reared its ugly head inside of me and I slammed the door shut, the hinges coming loose as the wood splintered. I didn’t feel bad about the way that the door hung at an angle in its frame, I didn’t care about anything at that moment. She was leaving me for a common thief and didn’t even tell me to my face, she made it come from the very same man she was leaving me for.   
I turned to walk up the stairs and saw the framed painting of us that I had given her for our anniversary, and I couldn’t tell whether I wanted to cry over it or rip it to pieces. I settled for pulling it from its place on the wall and carrying it to the bedroom as I began to pack her things for her.   
I couldn’t believe that I was packing up her things, but if she didn’t want to see me, I didn’t want to see her. It was going to be uncomfortable if her and Brynjolf came in here, going through all of our things, deciding what she wanted to take and what she wanted to keep. My anger was fanned and fueled by the idea of her taking more than just her clothes, wanting some of the furniture or the books, to put into a house she would certainly get with him. Each time I felt myself calming down the image of my books sitting unused on a shelf in their living room brought the heat of fury swooping back with avengence.   
Soon, all of her armor was folded into a chest, along with any of the weapons around the house I knew belonged to her. I leaned against the trunk, the painting of the two of us sitting idly against the wall, and her smile seemed to be mocking me. I had thought then that she smiled because we were in love, but in truth it seemed that she was laughing about how ignorant I must have been to have fallen in love with her so blindly. I had prided myself on my intelligence, though it seemed that in my love I had become so dull that she had fled to another man.   
I folded away the variety of boots and leathers that I had become accustomed to her wearing as well as a delicate gown that I had never seen before, though I suspected and feared that another man had been given the chance to see it on her. Within the breast of the fabric resided stitching that closely resembled that of the Amulet of Mara, and I wondered who she had envisioned herself marrying when she purchased it. I folded her favorite blanket as well, through my anger worrying about her inability to sleep when she's too cold, setting it atop all of her clothes. The smell of her was heavy in the air and I breathed it in, knowing that it was likely my last chance to feel close to her.  
I slept there that night, leaning against the chest filled with her clothes and with her pillow sitting on top, her familiar scent filling my nose as my mind danced between sleep and wakefulness. I forgot, for just a few moments, about the events of the day, my mind tricking me into believing that the lavender and snowberry scent was flowing from her freshly washed skin instead of her often used pillow that was just a little bit too soft for my taste. I forgot that she had left me for someone else, and I would never again have the chance to kiss her lips. I forgot that she was no longer mine and dreamed that she was there with me, in our bed and in my arms, when it couldn’t have been further from the truth.


	6. Farkas POV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Farkas finds his house broken and his brother sleeping on the ground. Without knowing what's happened in his absence he comforts his brother, reflecting on how close they used to be. 
> 
>  
> 
> Just a short piece in which Farkas is a great brother to a sad, angsty Vilkas.

The panic rose in my body as soon as I saw the angle that the door was sitting at, the light shining through the holes where the wood had come apart from the hinges. I drew my weapon, my arms weary after a full day of testing the new whelps, but I knew that if someone had been hurt, I needed to find them.  
My mind screamed for me to call out for Vilkas or Kyrah, but my common sense quieted that urge, reminding me that the threat may have still been present. I pushed the door as far open as I could with the tip of my sword, and all that I saw in the living room was a few splinters from the door scattered on the ground and that it looked exceptionally clean. I crept in through the hole in the door, glad that it wasn’t one prone to squeaking, and glanced around. The room seemed to be empty and I made my way up the stairs, sure that I could hear someone breathing.   
I tiptoed my way up the wooden steps, weapon always ready in case there was someone lurking in any of the many shadows inside of the house, my head whipping around each time the shadow flickered and danced in the dying candlelight. I couldn’t see any potential threats in the house, but as I made my way up the steps, the gentle breathing grew louder and I was almost certain that it was Vilkas.   
Gently opening his door I peeked in, profoundly confused by what I found within. He was resting on the floor, the empty chest that usually stood at the foot of their bed pulled out to the middle of the room, with a pillow on top of it that held a sleeping Vilkas. His breathing was uneasy and his face was still red, and no matter where I looked I couldn’t see Kyrah.   
I stepped into the room as quietly as I could, my armor rattling silently from the quick movements. I kneeled down in front of him and saw the drying wet spot on the pillow and knew that he had been crying. Fear coursed through me and I wondered if Kyrah had been hurt and it so, how gravely. If it had been a broken bone or a manageable gash Vilkas would have been able to fix it up here, but judging by his uneasy sleep and her absence, I knew that if it was true, it must have been horrible.   
I turned and saw the painting Vilkas had gotten of the two of them sitting on the ground, wondering why he would have brought it up here. Maybe to heal he had taken her to the Temple of Kynareth in Whiterun and he wanted her to be surrounded by things that made her happy. That sounded like him.   
He groaned in his sleep and I stopped moving, afraid that I had woken him after what was obviously a stressful day for him. I glanced over my shoulder and saw his hands grabbing at the pillow, his face still red and his teeth chewing at his lip. He buried his face in the pillow and one look up at the bed told me that it was hers. Her side of the bed was empty of her blankets and pillows, and I feared that she was going to be gone for a while. I liked her much more than I had liked any of Vilkas’ other female companions, and didn’t like the thought of her being hurt somewhere, especially without Vilkas.   
I sat down by him, leaning my back on what was clearly a trunk that had been filled, and dread filled me. If the trunk was full it was likely because wherever Kyrah was, she was going to be for a while, which meant that Vilkas was probably going to leave too. I didn’t know where they were going to be and I wasn’t sure if I would like being in this big house all alone, and wanted to get as much time with my brother as I could.  
I rested my head on the corner of the pillow and closed my eyes, the head from Vilkas barely reaching me. I tugged one of his blankets off the bed and wrapped him up, knowing how cold he got in the middle of the night, as it had been happening since we were small children. He smiled a little bit and it made me so happy to see, and I wondered when I would ever see it again. He had always been so pessimistic and angry all the time, it was nice to see him smile so easily around Kyrah and not slinging insults at anyone who crossed his path.   
I felt his hand rest on my chest and moved closer to him. I never would have admitted it in the daytime when we were both sober, but my least favorite part of growing up had been the distance that had grown between the two of us as we grew up. For years we had slept in the same bed, always comforted by the presence of the other. I didn’t like the night that Vilkas had told me we were too old and insisted that I found my own bed.   
I had liked the idea of having my brother so close to me, but Vilkas was always one to follow the rules. He had decided that we were too old to be sharing a bed, and I was never one to fight him about anything. It felt good to have him close to me again, to have my brother simply be my brother instead of my shield-brother or my roommate. His snores were resounding through the room and I knew that he probably wouldn’t be pleased when he woke up, but it didn’t matter that much to me.  
I didn’t know why he had to take all of her stuff with him wherever he was going, but I didn’t put too much thought into it. I just knew that my brother had spent all night crying and needed some support. I felt his fingers curl into my shirt and figured that he was having a bad dream, probably about what had happened to him throughout the day, and was almost tempted to wake him up to ask what had happened.   
I heard him sniffling and wondered what had made him cry so hard, but figured that he could probably use some sleep instead of me waking him up to relive a bad day in the middle of the night. I could smell the soap that our house usually smelled vaguely like, and decided that it made him feel better.   
“Love you brother.” I whispered as I said this, the words feeling almost foreign in my mouth as it had been so long since he’d let me say them. He had said that he felt odd saying it once we had become adults, but it didn’t bother me as much as it bothered him. I liked him knowing that I still loved him even though he didn’t feel as comfortable saying it back. Even though he was the small, smart one, it confused me how he had such a macho attitude about everything.   
“Love you, Farkas.” He muttered the words, re-positioning himself next to me. I couldn’t tell if he was awake or if he was just responding automatically to what I said, but it didn’t matter. It was the first time Vilkas had told me that he loved me, and it didn’t matter how awake he was. It felt good to have my brother next to me, acknowledging that he loved me.   
I didn’t know why we were sleeping on the floor and I didn’t really care. I wouldn’t find out what had happened until the next morning, but that night that I spent with him in his room was the best that I’d slept in months. I forgot that we were adults and adults weren’t supposed to want to be close to their brother, but it felt nice to have my best friend back, if even for a night.


	7. Kyrah POV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kyrah returns home to take back her belongings and ends up finding herself in an even more uncomfortable situation. 
> 
>  
> 
> I do not own Brynjolf, Vilkas, Farkas, the Thieves Guild, Skyrim, or anything other than my original female character, all credit goes to Bethesda

There it was, looming in front of me, mocking me. I had thought that it was going to be my sanctuary for the rest of my life with the man that I loved, but he was lost to me now. I was left to live in the Cistern with my fellow thieves, listening to Brynjolf snore in the bed a few feet from mine.  
He had been a good friend to me throughout my crisis, always making me eat when all that I wanted was to drink. I hadn’t gone on any jobs or stepped out of the Cistern, and I had soon gotten a bad case of cabin fever. I was itching to get out of the Cistern, but I was dreading seeing him again. I couldn’t stand the thought that he was just kicking me out of the house that I loved so much. I loved that every inch of that house was already full of some sort of good memory, and now one bad one.  
“You ready, lass?” Brynjolf’s voice brought me back to reality, but I wasn’t ready. I wasn’t ready to face what was waiting for me in there. I wasn’t ready to see her living in my house, with the man that was supposed to be mine, in the bed that I had laid in for a year. I didn’t want to see her touching him or him touching her. I didn’t want to see my belongings gathered up and ready to be taken away, effectively removing me from my own house.  
“I think so,” I took a step forward, the familiar dirt road leading me to my house for what was probably the last time. I saw a figure sitting on the porch and worried that it was her, sitting there, waiting to watch me take all of my things away. Anger welled up within me and I stomped forward, knowing that Brynjolf was keeping up behind me. His legs were much longer than mine, meaning that it was usually me following him, but he must have been waiting to see what I was going to do.  
“Kyrah!”  
Farkas leaped off of the porch and hurried toward me, obviously the person that I had seen waiting for me. He was free from his Companions issued armor and I could see how pale his face was as he made his way closer to me. His eyes were wide and he looked more serious than I had seen him in months, making my heart drop even further.  
He wrapped me in his arms and flung me around, my feet easily leaving the ground in his embrace. Usually I would have objected to being treated like a rag doll, but I didn’t mind it. I knew that it could have been the last time that I was around him, and I had grown to care deeply about Farkas. He was the light while Vilkas was dark, he was uplifting when Vilkas was brooding, they evened one another out, and Farkas had always been able to lift my spirits.  
“Oh Farkas, I’m going to miss you.” He set me down again, keeping me in the tightest hug I had ever experienced. His grip was much tighter than any hug Vilkas had ever given me, but their build was similar enough to make me feel safe.  
“What do you mean?” He looked at me, looking so confused at my words. “Where are you going?”  
“I have to go back to the Cistern, since I can’t be here anymore.”  
“You’re leaving?” He looked broken, as if he didn’t know quite what was happening around him. It seemed that he didn’t as he had been at Jorrvaskr during everything with Vilkas’s new female companion, and I wondered how much Vilkas had told him.  
“I have to, don’t I?” I sniffled, feeling the threat of tears once more growing in my eyes. “I’m just coming for my stuff, then I guess I’m gone.”  
He looked so sad that I was furious. I couldn’t believe that Vilkas hadn’t bothered to tell Farkas what he was doing, leaving him in the dark about who he would be living with. He looked at me so cluelessly, as if Vilkas hadn’t told him a single thing.  
“Why do you have to go?” He looked like a puppy who was afraid of being kicked and it broke my heart. I couldn’t believe that this man, who looked like his whole life was being turned upside down, could turn into the most fearsome beast known to Tamriel at will. It was difficult to see the beast that surely lurked within him when he looked a young boy caught in the middle of a familial struggle.  
“I don’t know, Farkas, Vyka just told me to get out.” He perked up a bit, his eyes widening. He grabbed my shoulders, dragging me toward the house.  
“You talked to Vyka? She was here? What happened?” He pulled me up to the porch and I heart Brynjolf walking after me, the air heavy with our mutual confusion.  
“She told me that Vilkas agreed to leave me, and that my stuff would be ready for me to pick up tomorrow.” I paused, taking a deep breath to steady my voice. “Vilkas didn’t even want to tell me himself.”  
“You need to come inside.” He tugged on my arm, but I pulled away from him. I didn’t want to see Vilkas after what he did to me, and wasn’t ready to see the inside of my house and how different it could look without any of my belongings. I wondered if he was going to keep the books that we bought together, or if he even wanted them.  
“Lass, I don’t know if that’s a good idea.” Brynjolf’s voice floated through the air easily, voicing the exact thought that was in my head.  
“Farkas, I don’t know if I can see him.” My voice was small and he looked urgent.  
He hurried into the house, the door hanging askew and unable to close after him, and I couldn’t even imagine what could have done that. I leaned against the railing, trying to keep myself from peeking into the house. Brynjolf stood next to me on the porch and I could almost feel his disapproval in the decision radiating from him. He had told me that it was a bad choice for me to come here, urging me to let him come alone to pick up my things.  
I knew that if Vilkas and Brynjolf had to see each other it wouldn’t end well, and wasn’t willing to let them see one another. Vilkas was so honorable and Brynjolf was so underhanded if they had to even converse with one another I was sure that it wouldn’t end well.  
“Vilkas, just come on already!” Farkas’s voice reached me through the halfway open doorway and my heart leaped into my throat. I could see his hands twisting and untwisting from one another, and I instantly knew that he was stressed. I couldn’t see his face past the door, but I knew what it surely looked like. His brows would be pulled together and his mouth would be pressed into a tight line. His eyes would seem to be paying attention, but if you looked at him for a moment, it would be clear that he was lost within his own thoughts. His back would be rigid and his breathing would be even, as he was far away from reality.  
“I don’t think I can do this, Farkas.” His voice was hushed and I fought to stay in my place, resisting the urge to throw the door open and demand the truth.  
“Vilkas, she’s right there on the other side of the door that you busted last night, just man up.” Farkas sounded more serious than I had heard him in a long time.  
“You should get in there, lass.” Brynjolf whispered in his best thief’s voice, barely drawing a fraction of my attention away from the way that Vilkas was wringing his hands together still.  
“Vilkas.” His name sounded like a breath in my mouth, but I knew that I needed the truth. If he wanted to leave me, I at least wanted to know what his reason were, and why he didn’t want to tell me himself.  
I pulled open the door to see the two brothers facing one another, their eyes locked in a non-verbal challenge. Farkas looked angry and Vilkas looked almost meek, looking almost reversed from their usual roles. Vilkas was standing with a trunk by his side and the realization that it was my belongings brought tears to my eyes.  
“She’s leaving me, Farkas, what in the name of Ysgramor am I supposed to do to change her mind?”  
“She’s not leaving you, for the love of Kynareth please just talk to each other!” Farkas threw his arms in front of him and I felt Vilkas’s gaze land on me, making me feel as if it was the first time anyone had ever looked at me.  
“Kyrah,” he looked lost in the situation and I wondered why he looked surprised to see me, he had known that I was coming for my things today. I didn’t know where Vyka was, making me wonder if she was in the bedroom that had been mine for a year.  
“Vilkas.” I kept my tone clipped to refrain from saying anything that I didn’t want to. He looked at me, his mouth slightly open, and I couldn’t tell what he was going to say next. His hands stopped wringing together, hanging limply by his sides, and my body screamed to move close the distance between us, to comfort him, to make him smile again.  
“Have you come for your things?” His voice was hushed and Farkas glared at him, his hands angrily resting on his hips.  
“I have.” I took a step forward, pulling the heavy trunk closer to me, knowing just from the sheer weight of it that it held my entire life. My armor, clothes, books, every item that was mine big and small rested in this chest, ready to be cleared from his house.  
“I really thought you were the one.” I looked up at him, seeing the sheen of tears in his eyes, and my urges broke through. I stood up, letting my arms drape around his shoulders, holding his body close to mine. I tried to memorize the way that his body felt on mine, the position that his arms held me in, and the warmth of his skin on mine. I wanted to remember it forever, no matter how angry I felt in the moment.  
“I love you.” I whispered the words against his chest, not caring if he heard, letting my tears flow freely into his shirt. I grabbed the back of his shirt in my hands, keeping him close to me, feeling the wetness gather under my face but I didn’t care if he saw me cry.  
“Then why are you leaving?” His fingers danced through my messy hair and for a moment I considered the lack of effort I had put into my appearance. His fingers were met with tangles and my mind whirred, making me wonder why he was questioning me leaving. Did he expect me to just stay here while he saw someone else?  
“Shor’s bones you two!” I heard Vyka’s voice break through the fragile moment and tried to jump away from Vilkas, but he kept me pressed to his chest. The drying tears on my cheek tightened my skin and made it feel rough and sensitive, scratching against the fabric of his shirt as I listened to her footsteps cross the floor from the back door.  
“Why couldn’t you just listen to what I told you, this would have been so much easier if you had just disappeared!” I pushed away from Vilkas until I was standing alone, her eyes glaring down at me.  
“What are you talking about?” Vilkas glared back at her, his knuckles brushing against mine lightly, sending electricity running up my arm.  
“If this little thief here had just moved along, everything would have been fine, Vilkas. You would have been mine again, like you were supposed to be. This was supposed to be my house, you were supposed to be my husband, you were never supposed to fall in love with someone else.”  
Her eyes were glistening by the end, her voice scratching from shouting for so long, and I could see the slight movements of everyone’s hands moving to the hilts of their weapons. She covered her eyes with her hands and I pulled Chillrend from the sheath, the magic buzzing in the air around us. She sniffled and looked past her hands, a smile growing slowly on her face.  
“You really think that you’re going to beat me? You’re just a little elf.” She laughed softly, quickly drawing a dagger from her thigh. She twirled it around in her fingers, “Trust me, Vilkas, in a few years we’re going to look back and laugh about this little mistake of yours.”


	8. Vilkas POV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kyrah comes face to face with Vyka and Vilkas, and is left to decide their fate then and there. 
> 
>  
> 
> I do not own Brynjolf, Farkas, Vilkas, the Thieves Guild, Thu'um, Skyrim, or anything other than my original female character, all credit goes to Bethesda!

I saw Kyrah take a deep intake of breath, but was confused when I didn’t see her reaching for her weapon. I wanted to warn her or take out my own weapon for when Vyka inevitably struck, but didn’t want to break the delicate moment between them. Her hands were hanging by her side, empty and limp, and I couldn’t believe that she wasn’t drawing any type of weapon.   
I saw Vyka take a step forward, the sharp points of her daggers pointing at Kyrah and my body was screaming for me to step between them. It was my fault that Vyka was here in the first place and wasn’t willing to drag Kyrah into my problems. There was a flash of blue and a simple voice filled the house, throwing Vyka back. She slammed against the wall, pushing me back against the staircase, making my head spin.   
What was that? How had it come from Kyrah? She had told me that she was was worried about being the Dragonborn, but I hadn’t known that it could be true. She was a Dunmer, I hadn’t thought that it was possible for her to be the center of a Nord legend.   
I struggled to stand on my own feet, Vyka’s daggers staying where they had landed near the wall. She reached for them but Kyrah pulled out her sword, leaving Vyka defenseless in the face of what must have been the Dragonborn. She looked to be in awe of the small Dark Elf in front of her, equally confused about how she could possibly be in possession of the Thu’um.   
“What in the name of Talos is going on?” Vyka scrambled backward, her hands clearly searching for her weapons, but they were still feet away and she was left without any defense. “You can’t use the Voice, you aren’t a Nord.” She spit the last word at Kyrah as if it was an insult not to be a Nord. I knew that it was only coming from the sense of superiority and tradition that many Nords felt, as well as confusion at a Dark Elf being the legend that had been brought to light by Nords.   
Kyrah leaned down, her face close to Vyka’s, her dark Dunmer eyes unblinking as she made eye contact. Her mouth was drawn into a tight line and she stabbed her sword into the ground for effect, the magic swirling around the blade momentarily freezing the wood.   
“If you come back here, I will kill you.” Her words were almost a whisper, Vyka’s eyes widening, though whether it was disbelief or fear I didn’t know. Her mouth curved into a small smile and she lifted herself from the ground, dusting off her armor from where she had fallen.   
“You’re going to kill me?” She rolled her eyes at the thought. When she stood straight she was several heads taller than Kyrah, dwarfing her with her Nord height and bulk.   
“I’m giving you an out, I don’t want to waste the Magicka on you if I can spare it. Leave my house.” I saw Vyka take a few steps back toward the door, her face trying to stay firm and superior but I could see the way that her hands were shaking and empty. Her footsteps retreated to the back door, my hand resting on the hilt of my weapon when she stopped to scoop up her daggers.   
I felt Farkas withdraw his sword next to me, knowing that he had been ready to arm himself through the entire ordeal. My mind was still swimming with questions regarding Kyrah’s status as the Dragonborn, distracting me from completely being in the situation. I had read about the Dragonborn and even heard stories when I was a whelp in the halls of Jorrvaskr, but never had it even been suggested that it could come about within my lifetime.   
I heard the door close and it pulled me from my thoughts, bringing me back to a room with one less body in it. I could hear the ringing of Magicka exit the room as Kyrah sheathed her sword and she came back into focus, her eyes wide as they met mine. Her mouth fell open and she smiled gently, my heart stopping in a moment of panic. I feared that although Vyka was gone, she was still going to move back into the Cistern with Brynjolf. I let go of my weapon, wishing that I had the strength Farkas did to just act on impulse around women.   
I had no idea what I was going to do when she took a step toward me, and my first instinct was to make some sort of sarcastic remark. I wanted so badly to comment on how she brought Brynjolf into our house but held my tongue, knowing that it would only make my situation worse.   
I felt her hands in my hair and she pulled me out of my mind, her lips meeting mine in a way that I never wanted to end. I was drunk on the scent of her swirling in through my nostrils and her fingers were curling in my hair the way only she could and I was lost in her kiss. Her lips were so soft they were all I could think about and her body so close to mine blocked out any thoughts or questions that might have clogged up my mind. I was almost painfully aware of every inch of her touching me, kissing me, smelling so wonderfully like snowberries and lavender and her, and I cursed myself for thinking that I could let her go.   
“I love you.” She mumbled the words on my mouth and I smiled, knowing that she meant it. She was the only woman in my life who had said those words and meant them as truly as she could, and she was the only one I wanted to hear them from.   
“I love you.” I kissed the top of her head, feeling her hands curl into the sides of my shirt, her face resting against my chest. I could feel her soft hair draping down her back and tangling in my fingers but I didn’t brush it away. I welcomed the feelings of being near her whether they were endearing or annoying, and knew that I would put up with anything to keep her here with me instead of down with the Thieves Guild.   
I was so caught up in her that I didn’t hear the front door open or close, of the suspiciously quiet footsteps of a sad thief making his way into the oncoming darkness. I didn’t hear when Brynjolf closed the door and I didn’t see the way that he looked at her one last time, his eyes clear, and I didn’t see the way that he set down his dagger on the table on his way out. I didn’t even realize that he was gone until I resurfaced from being so lost in her, soaking up every moment I had with her.   
I barely noticed Farkas leaving the room as I wrapped my arms around her, leaving kisses along her forehead and down her cheeks. It was as if with every breath she took I felt closer to her, as if I had lost her from my life and she was already seeping back into every inch of me. She stayed pressed to me and I only considered for a moment that with almost no effort she could have shouted me to pieces if she wanted to.  
“Did you really move her into our house?” Her words were so quiet that they barely interrupted the silence of the moment, but they shocked me all the same.   
“No.” I kissed the top of her head, the vindictive beast inside of me threatening to choke out some insult about her leaving to be with Brynjolf, but I knew that it wasn’t necessary.  
She seemed satisfied and her arms wrapped around my middle, her eyes fluttering closed. I knew that even if she was the Dragonborn, it didn’t change her in my mind. She was a Companion and a thief, but a thief that had stolen my heart from me. She was stronger than any whelp than I had ever encountered and I remembered the first time I fought against her. I remembered the gleam in her eye and the experienced way she held herself, and I remembered the way that I had instantly felt drawn to be closer to her.   
“I love you.” I rested my head on hers, quieting the angrier voice inside of me that insisted to know why Brynjolf had been with her, instead deciding that I would just enjoy having her back in my arms. “I think I’ve always loved you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With the next chapter, these two characters and their story will come to a close, but I have loved writing them and thank you all for your support through my writing, it means so much!


	9. Kyrah POV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three years after Kyrah kicks Vyka out of her house and regains her life with Vilkas, she reflects on their life since then, as well as a hint of smut throughout with a fluffy ending

The air drifting in through the window was cold and his body was warm, his heat reaching me under the blanket. I delayed opening my eyes, wanting to push off starting the day for as long as possible, wanting to stay in bed with his heat radiating from his body.   
I placed my hand on his chest and heard him hum quietly, opening my eyes to see him smiling. He glanced over at me and captured my hand in his, pressing a kiss to my knuckles. I felt tingles spread through my stomach, reminding me of how every day he made me feel like I had fallen in love all over again.   
He brushed his fingers through my hair, pulling it away from my face, spreading it over the pillows. I closed my eyes and leaned into his touch, wishing that I could will away the need to check on the Guild and the Companions, wishing that I could stay in bed with him all day.   
The sunlight was streaming in through the window and landed on his skin, illuminating his skin and the dark brown in his hair. He smiled and squinted at me through the early morning light, the light flecks in his usually dark eyes visible as they watched me.  
I propped myself up on my elbow, tightening the blanket around my body to keep it covered from view. He smiled and kissed my fingers once more, rolling onto his side and meeting my gaze. I could tell by the smile on his face that he had already thought of something snarky to say, but was keeping it to himself for the time being. He had gotten much better at keeping his rude comments to himself, trying to keep himself from insulting everyone around him.   
“What?” I pushed my hair away from my face, wondering what could be funny enough to make him smile so early in the morning. He was not, by any means, a morning person. I usually awoke to a grumpy expression on his face and complaints about the coming day, interrupted by regular kisses.   
“Nothing.” He smiled wider and I knew that it was going to be something about me that had amused him, and began to wonder if I really wanted to know what was going on inside of his head.  
“What?” I ran a hand over my face and through my hair, making sure that I had no obvious physical flaws I had woken up with.   
“You’re just beautiful.” His voice was so soft it was a miracle that he hadn’t woken up angry per usual. His voice saying such sweet words still made my heart race just as it had the first time he had kissed me. I remembered his arms around me, holding the greatsword in front of me, his form so solid and warm behind me. I remembered the way that his hands felt on my hips, holding me harshly against the city wall, the thought sparking a warmth inside of me that only happened from his touch.   
His arm wrapped around my waist, drawing me closer and into the small alcove of body heat that had accumulated under the blanket. I felt his chest press against mine, the thin layer of sweat from last night now long dry, but the memory remained with me. I remembered his kisses down my throat and his sweaty body hovering only a few inches above mine, his pants breaking through the silence of the late night.   
He kissed my collarbone, his lips warm on my skin, heating me up despite the frost that covered the window in a thin sheet. I smiled and bit my lip, knowing what was bound to happen. His hands tickled and danced their way up my arms, clapping down on my wrists and holding them to the mattress. I raised my hips to meet his, knowing that this is why he didn’t wake up angry, he already knew what he was going to do.   
His knees spread my legs apart and I felt his lips on my throat, teeth nipping at the sensitive skin to elicit a groan. His body was only a few inches away from mine and he smirked against my skin and I could feel him sink easily into me with a quiet moan.   
“Gods I love you.” He muttered the words against my shoulder, his hands keeping mine pressed to the bed as he shifted his hips. My body felt like it had been lit with a slowly burning fire, spreading from my hips to the rest of my body as he quickened his pace.   
“I love you Vilkas.” I gasped his name right before he pressed his lips to mine, his kiss harsher than normal but feeling right in the setting. I didn’t think that there was anything else in the world at that moment, nothing out there besides his body on mine, his lips pressing to mine in a rough kiss.   
His hips snapped forward a few times and my eyes shut, my pulse quickening and my heart slamming against my chest. I felt the heat spread completely through my body, seeping under my skin, pushing away all the stress of the day. After a few more thrusts he sighed and I felt a different type of heat spread through the lower portion of my body, alerting me that he was finished.   
He rested his body on mine and released my hands, the cold air hitting my skin where the pressure had been just moments ago and raising goosebumps on my skin. I felt his warm breath hitting my shoulder and smiled, wrapping my arms around his neck. He felt so warm and real, and I couldn’t believe that at any point I had thought about letting him go.   
It was hard for me to even believe that I had thought that Vilkas could be anyone else’s besides mine, though I had let my jealousy and insecurity take over the rational portion of my brain. With his hair running through my fingers I remembered the look on his face when he realized that I was the Dragonborn, and the fear that I had felt that he was going to decide that I was too much. But he had looked at me as if I was all that mattered in the world and I knew that he would be there for me.   
Three years had passed since that day and many enemies had fallen in that span of time, bandits and dragons alike. He had followed me blindly into battle, always by my side, never letting me think that he would stray anymore.   
“I love you.” He pressed a firm kiss to my neck and rolled over onto the bed, dragging the majority of the blanket with him. He wrapped himself up, leaving me in the cold of the frosty morning, my skin raising in gooseflesh and tightening in the cold air. He smirked and even though I was cold, I kept imagining his face when he first saw me walk into Jorrvaskr, the apparent anger that was there. I had since learned that it had really been badly suppressed attraction, but I had thought that he hated me for so long it was a miracle that he had let me fall in love with him.   
“I love you too.” I ran my fingers through his hair, marvelling at how much he had fought every time I had insisted that he needed a haircut. I had seen the way that it clouded his eyes in battle, affecting his vision, but still he was sure that I wasn’t allowed to cut it.   
He wrapped the blanket around me, pulling me into his tight embrace, and I knew that I would never doubt him again. I had since worked with Brynjolf, both closely and very distantly, and the awkwardness between us had subsided some once he recommenced his womanizing ways. I had seen women come and go from his regular room at the inn, none of them staying for long, and wondered if he was ever going to find the right woman.   
Guilt crept into my heart when I remembered the way that he had exited the house. His dagger was left laying on the table near the door, a note stuck discreetly into the sheath beside the blade. The Magicka of the weapon had burnt the edges of the paper but the message was still legible, each word still seared onto my brain.   
_I leave you my Dagger of Souls because you stole my soul, and hope that you give it back someday. -B_  
As I laid with Vilkas’s head tucked safely into my shoulder and his arms holding my body I knew that I had easily made the right decision, though sometimes felt guilty for leaving Brynjolf on such bad terms. He had long been my friend and for a short while been the man I had imagined my life with, but Vilkas changed everything. He was safe and warm and loving and intelligent beyond measure, and everything else that I could possibly want in a partner.   
I could hear Farkas moving around in the house and wanted to groan, knowing that it was time for us to get up, but not wanting to give up my time with him. My experiences had taught me to treasure him above all else, and never to put him second to anything. It had taught me to get as much of him as I could because in Skyrim, especially as Companions and a thief, threats were imminent and one of us could have been lost at any moment.  
I savored every touch he landed on my skin and reminded myself through every argument that I loved him and no fight was worth losing him. Every smile that graced his once grumpy face, every time he talked at length about something that made no sense to me, every time he disagreed with me about the meaning behind novels, I documented and kept in my mind, resolving to remember every tiny detail about him.   
He kissed my forehead, making me smile so naturally it was so hard to believe that there were so many worldly problems going on around us. Wars and enemies could wait for as long as his lips were on my skin. I closed my eyes, allowing myself to be lost in his touch when I felt his breath tickling along my ear.   
“I love you.”  
“I love you too, whelp.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love these characters, and will most likely start a new story with them soon, but thank you to my continuous and regular readers, it means a lot!


	10. Kyrah POV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't let them go, but I promise I'm finished for real this time!

The sound of feet skidding over the wood downstairs caught my attention, pulling me from my dreams. I was grumpy at first at the thought of being awake so early, but knew that it was a good reason to be awake. I could hear little giggles coming from downstairs and sat up, pulling my hair away from my face. I knotted it loosely behind my head and stood up, wondering how long I had been alone in our bed.  
I let my fingers dance over the display case by the bedroom door, knowing that it would never need to be opened again. Within it rested the Amulets of Mara that we had worn on the day that I had pledged the rest of my life to him, the day that I had promised to love him and only him for the rest of my life. I had been wrong, another boy had stolen my heart in a way that only he could a few years later, and I had never regretted it. His dark hair and eyes were so familiar and lovely that I couldn't help but fall in love with him from the moment he was brought into this world.  
His footsteps resounded as he ran up the stairs, his short arms wrapping around my waist and his face burying into my stomach. I let my fingers drag through his tangled hair, glad that at least one man in my life would let me keep his hair short. I lifted him up, feeling how heavy he was becoming with age, and knew that soon it wouldn't be socially acceptable for me to baby him anymore. He was five years old and the world would tell me that it was time for his father to teach him to be a man, but for the time being he was still my warm boy who still loved to snuggle his mom.  
I pressed a kiss to his forehead and made my way down the stairs, unsure what would be waiting for me. I had heard more than one set of footsteps and my bed was empty, showing me that Vilkas and Farkas were likely down there trying to test to see if he had inherited the beast blood from any of us. I had worried that he was going to have to live his life being judged by others, but so far all of their tests had been inconclusive.  
I could see the two brothers in the living room, all of the furniture pushed to the sides of the room, already wrestling to see who was the strongest. It was probably too early for normal people to be fighting and laughing at each other, but they were by no means normal people. I could see the deep claw marks in the wooden floor both old and new from the transformations that had taken place in the house, and knew that if anyone else entered the house they would probably be very suspicious of us. I could feel a leg brushing against my arm and started to lean down to set Fillin on his feet, but he tightened his arms around my neck.  
"Come on little wolf," Farkas growled out the words as he pushed Vilkas onto his back, a victorious smile on his face. "Come help me take down your old man."  
I let Fillin slide to the floor, his small hands letting go of my arms as he made his way down the stairs. He hurried over to Farkas as he held Villas against the floor, an image of how these fights between the two usually end up. Fillin walked through the living room and I crossed my arms, unsure whether I approved of the fighting in front of someone so young, but knowing that it wasn't meant to be intimidating. I had seen the two of them fight over who was the strongest many times, usually ending with Farkas sitting on top of Vilkas's torso to keep him down.  
I sat down on the staircase, knowing that the day had to start soon, and we wouldn't be able to stay safe in our little house for long. The Civil War was still ravaging the country and it was growing closer to home, but I wanted to keep it away from Fillin for as long as possible. I wanted his life to be nothing more than a mother, father and uncle who loved him very much, the river where he played and would learn to fish, and his father teaching him to read. I wanted him to remain innocent of the war, not having to see the things that we had all seen as Companions. I watched as he crawled onto Vilkas, his little hands grabbing at his shirt and pulling himself onto his chest.  
Vilkas met my gaze and smiled for a moment, his hands holding our son steady as he sat down on his chest. I knew that although my paranoia over Fillin accidentally being hurt had subsided, I would never feel safe until I knew whether or not he had inherited the blood of the beast from us. I didn't want him to grow up being judged by others and ostracized, but if he did have it, I wanted to start teaching him about it early. I had refrained from telling him too much, not wanting him to think that his mommy was what went bump in the night.  
"Shor's bones!" Farkas's voice broke through my thoughts and I saw his face go pale. He looked up at me with his mouth hanging open and I worried that someone had been hurt, but Fillin wasn't crying and Vilkas was still preoccupied with making sure he didn't fall. I stood up and hurried down the stairs, worrying that something had gone wrong that I hadn't seen, needing to know what was surprising him. I knelt down beside Vilkas, hands searching Fillin for sign of injury, but he just smiled at me as if nothing was wrong. I looked over at Farkas and couldn't tell what had happened, waiting for him to voice his concerns.  
He lifted up Fillin and my heart sunk, knowing that he had been hurt and just hadn't realized it yet. I had seen him cut his hand and not known for almost an hour, but I couldn't see any signs of blood or pain on him. His eyes, so like that of his father, watched mine, a smile on his face as he reached toward me from Farkas's grip. I let my fingers drag slowly across his face, searching for an unknown injury, and was confused when I found none. Farkas looked up at me and turned Fillin in his hand, Vilkas sitting up next to me. I felt his hand rest on top of mine and his fingers held mine carefully, knowing that my mind was full of different questions regarding Farkas's reaction. I leaned forward, watching Fillin's little feet dance in midair as Farkas held him up, turning his back to me. He twisted his head around to look at Vilkas, the smile falling from his face as he surely felt the tension in the room. He looked panicked and he kicked his feet, but that's when I saw it. The little tail wiggling its way out of his trousers.

"Ysgramor's beard." Vilkas whispered, his fingers reaching forward to touch the tail that was evidently coming out of our son's pants. It wiggled once more at his touch, the dark color so similar to Vilkas's coloring when he let loose the beast within himself that I knew it had to be true. He had been born with the beast blood, just as I had worried over for all those years. He was a beast, just like the rest of us, and it had likely been my fault.  
"Ma?" His little voice broke through the tense room and I snatched him from Farkas's hold, cradling him close to my body. He smiled and nuzzled his face close to my chest, reminding me that he was still my baby. He was still a little boy despite the blood that was clearly coursing through his veins, and I wouldn't stand for him being treated any differently.  
I kissed his forehead, watching as Vilkas and Farkas marveled at the tail hanging out of my hold, but I didn't care. His smiling face was still the exact same that it had been when we all thought he was a little human boy, his skin still light like his Nord father and uncle, his cute little hands still gripping around my neck the same way. I held him close and watched as his little tail wagged happily once more.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a continuation with the same characters, because I just couldn't give it up. I hope it doesn't disappoint!


End file.
